


X 2

by sakurachan811



Category: Metal Family (Cartoon)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Angst, Breeding, Canonical Child Abuse, Courting Rituals, Depression, Drunk Sex, F/M, Food Issues, Implied Childhood Sexual Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Knotting, Loss of Virginity, Masturbation, Mating Bites, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mental Breakdown, Miscarriage, Mpreg, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Pining, Possessive Behavior, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Scent Marking, Sibling Incest, Underage Drinking, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:28:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26561413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sakurachan811/pseuds/sakurachan811
Summary: This will be all of the my metal family works that I have in In chronological order. I'm doing this so I can get a better feel Of the timeline before continuing.Still working on formatting and chronological issues
Relationships: Sebastian Shvagenbagen/Victoria, Sebastián Shvagenbagen/Lydia Shvagenbagen
Kudos: 7





	1. First Violinist

**Author's Note:**

> Alpha Victoria 
> 
> Alpha Gustav Shvagenbagen
> 
> Omega Mrs. Shvagenbagen
> 
> Omega Sebastián "Glam" Shvagenbagen 
> 
> Alpha Lydia Shvagenbagen
> 
> Beta Ches
> 
> Beta Rowd
> 
> Sebastian Shvagenbagen/Lydia Shvagenbagen
> 
> Sebastian Shvagenbagen/Victoria
> 
> Biology explained: both male and female Alphas and Omegas are intersex, both can have successful pregnancies. Betas are not intersex, betas are often considered second class.
> 
> Scent glands are very sensitive and are also act as engorgous zones. They are located at the neck and inner wrists.
> 
> Heat/Rut: their secondary sex expresses itself at the onset of puberty, it is a 28-32 day cycle and lasts 5-7 days long
> 
> Pre heat/Pre rut: starts 3-4 days before the onset of heat or rut.
> 
> Social hierarchy: Glam grew up in a very traditional household, He has internalized his father's views on sexes to some degree.
> 
> Ex. it's shameful that he, first born son is an omega.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blink and you'll remember.
> 
> Everything with his father is constant. He doesn’t slip up, he doesn’t relent.The man trained him, ran him into the ground, degraded him every chance he got. Everything he did was monitored from the time he woke up to the food on his plate.
> 
> Sebastian growing up. 
> 
> When they were small maybe four or five, she would drag him with her everywhere. They would play games in mother's garden. God, it's been so long.  
> Where did I go? Sebastian where did you go?  
> Please tell me.  
> She knows better

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sebastian age 12  
> Lydia age 13

Blink and you'll remember.

Everything with his father is constant. He doesn’t slip up, he doesn’t relent.The man trained him, ran him into the ground, degraded him every chance he got. Everything he did was monitored from the time he woke up to the food on his plate. As per his strict diet, he ate Oatmeal, protein, some protein, and more protein. Leafy greens and boiled eggs, too fat, Sebastian, you’re too fat. 

At night sometimes his father would come in his room reeking of whisky, sit on his bed and say. "I wanted better for you son." Or "you'll be one of the greatest violinsts this family's ever had." The rarest of all 

"I don't know what to do with you anymore"

Those were the only times he was something other than a monster. He'd never realized when he was younger, but what his father had done to him was wrong, not just the cruel words and the beatings, but everything. He knows there are other ways that his father punishes his mother and sister for disobedience. He may be young but he's not stupid.

Some nights he'd lay awake, hearing his father's heavy steps down the hallway. He's always able to breathe a little easier when they pass by his room. His sister Lydia always smelled like ink, perfume and their father, iron sometimes. The long sleeves of her cardigans and blouses covered something unsavory he thinks, as unsavory as his own?

No one wore short sleeves in this house.

He'd walked in on them once, and only once. 

He opens his mouth, inhales, his stomach drops. Lydia's eyes had been so wide, he'd simply closed the door and walked out. This couldn’t… this couldn’t be real, this couldn’t be happening. He doesn’t know what else to do. When his biology tutor arrives their father says nothing, Lydia says nothing, and that’s it. He doesn’t know if their mother knows. Lydia will never ever bring it up. The more time passes, the longer their father says nothing, the longer their mother says nothing, the more he convinces herself it never happened to begin with.

Lydia's diet was not controlled as rigidly as his own was, which was odd. Was she not a lady? He knew of other ladies of status, they were all slim, delicate things, like the porcelain dolls Lydia used to have. His father is angry with him, father is always angry with him. He’s so hungry that he doesn't care, as long as he can eat.

“Just retrieveing my violin bow.” He does take the spare violin bow, He knows there’s a small charlotte cake in the very back, and if he’s really going to do this, he’s going to need to eat something to swallow the guilt later.

Oh god, he has to get out of here, has to get out of this house.

The hardest thing he ever did was walk away.

Sebastian is twelve years old when he catches his father coming out of his sister's room in the middle of the night. He's tired, confused, he ends up running right into him. 

"Sebastian" The man snaps. "Get back to bed." Sebastian goes back to bed, He won't think about this for a long, long time. He doesn't register the noises until he hears someone cry out softly. Then he can't stop hearing the noises. Shuffling, creaking. soft cries, Lydia? her gasps for breath. Like she's trapped in a nightmare too. He almost knocks, But he's pretty sure she isn't alone in there.Normally, he goes to bed early; exhausted by his ridiculous practice schedule, he sleeps long and hard. Three nights pass where nothing happens. He is tired.

One night Gustav starts drinking straight from the bottle at dinner, which is never a good sign. It means something will happen though, so Sebastián stays up again. Waits until Lydia is brushing her teeth in the bathroom, creeps out of his room, hides. He's so tired, he dozes briefly.

Her cries wake him once again.

He leans in, presses his ear against the door, he hears the other voice more clearly.

What?

Sebastian blinks in the darkness, peers through the crack. Sure enough there’s his father, Lydia, on top of her Lydia is panting like she's running, like it's a lesson that's a level too advanced. (Any sort of lessons father gives is too harsh for her. How could she have deserved this?) He hears Lydia's cries turn into muffled sobs. Sebastian's heart beats faster. He's hurting her. 

"Oh be quiet." Gustav growls, "This is all you're good for around here, If you're going to be lazy-“ His hips snap. “-and make me do every single damn thing for you ungrateful brats,” Another snap. “Then the least you can do is be quiet, when I'm taking what I need."

Smack, smack, smack, like she's getting spanked. Lydia never got spankings, never really gets into trouble, not like her brother. Sebastian shifts, wishes he could see more, he doesn't understand. A funny feeling flutters in his gut, his heart races. He definitely isn't supposed to be here.

Smack smack smack, she's sobbing in earnest now. "Quiet." A low threat.Sebastian's eyes widen when he sees her shake her head, claps a hand over her own mouth. She's mostly quiet after that. Until "Please-" She cries beneath him.

His voice deep and his heavy breaths like an animal. The monstrous devouring the innocent. 

"Be a good girl."He mutters. His hips smack. Lydia's cries die back down into sniffles. Stop it! Sebastian wants to yell. She didn't do anything! Father groans, body stilling. Sebastian stays quiet, stays hidden, fear and confusion clouding his mind. He can't stand up to his father, he would never win. So Sebastian sits helpless, he waits and watches. 

At breakfast. Sebastian is quiet, eats his food.  
Dinner is a silent affair

Their father doesn’t usually touch them, Gustav isn't the hugging type. He only puts hands on Sebastian, and only to destroy him. He doesn’t really have anything to do with his other child. Gustav tells him all the time, the reason he was born. To take on his legacy, and become the best violinst this family's ever had.

He could barely taste the food but it feels good to go against his father’s will, even if it’s private, like laying in bed at thirteen years old, praying for his father’s death. He shouldn’t, but even now he lays awake and prays for it to all end.

He hears is the the door opening and closing, something he’s accustomed to half waking up to in the middle of the night, drowsy but listening, making sure Lydia is alright. When she isn’t alright, he never gets out of bed, but it makes him feel like he’s a good person, a good brother, that he bothers at all.

He heaves a sigh, sits right down on Sebastian's bed. His face goes through rapid shifts. Panic, fear, anger, then- he’s thinking. At this level Sebastian can smell the liquor on his breath. He sits on the edge of his bed, waits patiently as his father rubs a hand down his face.“I need another drink.” He mutters to himself so quietly it probably wasn’t meant for Sebastian to hear. He skulks off. He stands.

Sebastian waits, wonders if he’ll come back but he hears his father’s footsteps returning. As his door opens, Sebastian sits once again. A small dark bottle of liquor is still in his father’s hand. Straight from the bottle usually means a really bad day. Straight from the bottle means stay away from dad. Sebastian watches him close the door as he leans back on his elbows on his knees. He’s a little scared. staring up at his father’s looming form. (Nobody can know, father had said.) 

"Sebastian there are private family matters you need to stay quiet about". "Nobody else can know." His father's voice is final. "These are private family matters".

"Yes father."

He’s got to get out of here, Sebastian has got to get out of this house. Something is wrong here. Many things are wrong here. That’s hardly new information.

Lydia falls in love for the first time when mom brings Sebastian home.

She tells him stories, new and old, true and false, long and short. He listens with an interest that outshines his delicate condition. She brings him tea and small, red oranges, skirting fathers's orders in her mission to tempt his appetite; he accepts the treats with all the willingness he can muster. She sneaks into his room with toys, games, books, carvings she's made tiny enough to palm, silk figurines with fairy faces, and Sebastian is happier, and Lydia commits it resolutely to memory. For now, his happiness is a tentative thing. He crawls into her bed once, Sebastian said nothing, just buried his face against her chest and clung tight to her nightgown with his fists.

When she turned thirteen she gains power over her brother and to a lesser extent their mother, she still remembers the look on his face, eyes huge hands clapped over his mouth, spoon clattering to table. The words were ripped from his throat against his will. Her startled eyes flick over to their father, what she sees terrified her, he was smiling.

When they were small maybe four or five, she would drag him with her everywhere. They would play games in mother's garden until it was time for their lessons. During the day she picked him up if he fell in the courtyard, and hurried him along when their father was waiting for him. She liked that part least of all. Afterwards, when Sebastian was bruised and slow, she would hold him tight and promise that things would get better, She was wrong.

Mother was quiet and prim, testing their etiquette and posture. After that, she started learning piano and ballet. Mother never hit her when she made a mistake, she would just seem tired and she would do it again until she got it perfect. Sebastian learned the violin from father. When she was little, it was hard not to feel jealous of Sebastian. The privileged son. The chosen one. The one their parents spent all of their time and energy on. She knows better now, So of course she feels bad for him. But it’s mostly bitterness that she feels, about their family, their entire situation. But she gets angry that everything about the baby of the family is just so perfect, mom loves him, he’s dad’s favorite.

There’s so many reasons she's mad at him. At everything he does. A pang of jealousy hits whenever she sees him. She hates herself for it, especially when she hears him start to cry. But it isn’t something she can control, Lydia was shaped this way, permanently changed by her father’s hands. It upsets her, She squeezes her pillow around her ears, hoping to drown out some of the sound. She's not in the mood to listen to her brother’s tears.

(There’s no way she’d intervene on his behalf, though. She knows better.)

God, it's been so long, a lifetime even. With her brother gone, their mother slowly faded until she was barely there at all. She died a few years after he'd left. Now it was just her and father.(Where did I go? Sebastian where did you go? Please tell me.)

Father can't really control her like he used to, whether it's because she's older or he's sick she doesn't care, It was time to bring her brother home.


	2. Sons and daughters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It happens once or twice a month.  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lydia age 15-17  
> Sebastian age 14-15 1/2

Swallowing her guilt at night, she lays awake, her body buzzing. Hears her brother's labored breathing, listening intently for his quiet gasps and choked off moans. She Imagines his long fingers touching her, Imagines she's the one wringing those noises out of him.

Her thoughts cause a ripple of heat to shoot down her spine, causing an ache between her legs that made her gasp softly. When she can't stand it anymore she reaches down to touch herself, sliding fingers through slick folds. So slick, so wet, Lydia claps a hand over her mouth and rubs and rubs and rubs. it sounds so wet under the covers. Lydia closes her eyes, sees stars. Pleasure hits her in a rush, her body tenses up, trembles, releases, tenses again. It feels so good she doesn’t stop, she can’t stop- And then she has to because it hurts if she keeps going. She pants wipes her hand on her sheets.

After that Lydia understands why father wants to keep doing it. She understands intimately.  
More often Lydia steals away, locks herself in the bathroom and rubs and rubs, squeezes her own aching tits or dick, pinches her nipples.Then sometimes she starts sticking things inside of herself, using her Hairbrush handle, pens, anything she can, instead of fantasizing about her brother’s cock. She rubs herself now, whenever she’s alone. Lydia explores her own pleasure. In the shower she rubs around her nipples, her prick. She knows how to make herself cum, she knows to keep rubbing and squeezing until fluid bursts from her in a rush. her body locks up, she sees stars. 

Her brother Sebastian is lean as a whip and so very handsome. Lately he has been getting bigger. So is she, but not at his rate. Her crush on her not so little brother is turning into a real problem and she doesn’t know how to make it stop. Lydia only gets more ornery. She can't stand by, she won't. One day....one day she'll break, hide him away, dreams of making him hers maybe, It’s something she’s considered.  
(As if Lydia could protect Sebastian from anything.)  
Worthless. 

"Lydia would you like to-"  
"No."  
“Please?” He tries again hopefully. She busies herself with schoolwork, spends more time practicing piano. She pushes him farther away.  
He keeps trying. He doesn’t seem to understand why she’s so hesitant to spend time with him. (I'm sorry)

His boxers mock her from her bedroom drawer. She thinks about it all evening, all night.  
Sebastian has class, Lydia has a free hour. They smell like him, when she brings it up to her nose his pheromones make her dizzy. It smells sweet and distinctly omega.

Her room doesn't get searched, she searches for the carving knife she still hid. Given to her as a traditional gift when she presented as an Alpha, she starts hoarding and hiding any clothing she outgrew. She cuts the fabric with a careful clawtip. At night she gets to work, the tree in mother's garden could stand to lose a branch. She reads and rereads the chapter on courting behavior in her psychology textbook. She wants to do these things, she can't groom him, can't scent him, but she can do this. He deserves nice things and he must be lonely, when her anger leaves her she always feels so hollow.

Lydia is fifteen when Sebastian’s poor health starts to scare her. Father has him locked up tight during all his heats, it can't be good for him, She knows her own ruts are agonizing. The instincts she works so hard to surpress always stir during his heats.(She doesn't care, she doesn't care, she-)  
Dammit.  
She fetches tea and water from the kitchens, slips a package of biscuits into her blouse.  
Growing bodies don't react well to malnutrition.

(Maybe he wouldn't be so unwell if father actually gave his hand a chance to heal.)

Back upstairs now she stands in front of the door. Trembling uncontrollably, she knocks. She hears quiet rustling and then "Yes?" His voice sounds throaty and strange. The sound of it causes her body to throb in response. Lydia speaks up.  
"I brought you something to drink."  
Silence.  
"I'm coming in."

"No, Lydia don't-"  
She closes the door quietly behind her.  
He's sitting up in bed, his normally clear blue eyes are foggy, his hair was mused and his cheeks are flushed pink. He wasn't wearing a shirt, she stares at his embarrassed uncomfortable face, watches a bead of sweat roll down his neck to his collarbones. He's really beautiful, her brother. She wouldn't have guessed that he had such pink nipples. (are they always like that? or-)His arms curved in front of him to hide his erection. The fine trail of hair flowing from his sternum is what really grabbed her attention, no, focus he needs to eat.

She places the tea tray on his bedside table, watches his eyes flick away when she removes the biscuits, how cute. She tries not to breathe too deeply, pretends that his scent doesn’t affect her, that he doesn't affect her. He smells rich and sweet, it makes her want to hide him away from this place. Bring him somewhere warm and safe, preferably her den. (She doesn't have a den, but if she did she's sure his soft, warm sweet scent would fit right in.) She told father once, that maybe Sebastian should be allowed seconds at dinner? After all he was a growing boy. For that Lydia wore the red brand of his palm on the back of her thigh for two weeks.

She does not think about how good he'd look in white, or what a sweet mother he'd be. He's not the only one choked by their class' restrictions.

When she showers she thought about him, awkward and colt-like, but getting taller and stronger. She imagined him pinching her nipple, stroking her breast, then moving his hand down, down, pushing between her thighs.  
Her pussy started to ache, hot and hungry, as her nipples grew harder.When she got home from her classes, father was thankfully still at work, but Sebastian was there. He was sitting at the kitchen table when she walked in, and for several moments they just stared at each other like strangers."What happened to you?" Sebastian asked.  
Lydia felt she should have been the one asking that question. Sebastian's right eye was bruised and swollen, he'd obviously been hit in the face. "Did father do that?"  
He shook his head but said nothing.

"Sebastian," she whispered, going over to him. She crouched by his seat, and reaching up to brush his hair aside. He flinched away from her fingers "Tell me."  
He looked away, still there was something she could do. "Do you want a hug?"  
Sebastian lifted his head slightly, his eyes widening. "Yes."  
she opened her arms for him.  
"Thank you," he mumbled, soft and small.

He wasted not a second more before he threw himself against her, thin arms going tight around her waist. And - she hadn't even realized he was the right height for it now - he pressed his face right into her chest, nuzzling in between her breasts. Lydia was too surprised to react for a long moment, but then she put her arms around him and hugged him back, stroking her fingers through his hair. Sebastian made a quiet noise and rubbed his face against her neck, his hands clutching her more tightly.

"I'm here." she said quietly cradling his head with her hand. She leaned closer.They hugged for a long time - she tried to pull away at first but Sebastian moaned and clutched at her until she hugged him again. After a couple of minutes one of his hands slid up her waist to her ribs, he kept going, moving his hand against her ribs back and forth, like petting.  
She swallowed thick. They weren't supposed to do this. "Sebastian," she said quietly.

"Sister," Sebastian moaned, nuzzling against her breast, breathing hot against it through the thin layers of clothing. Already she could feel herself reacting, her nipples hardening. Sebastian grazed a nipple with his mouth, then licked her through her blouse. She felt the dampness of his tongue through the material, and she wanted the heat of his mouth so badly.

She ran shaky fingers through his hair. "Sebastian, listen."  
He nosed against her breast, brushed against her nipple again, and then he nodded.  
"Lydia" He murmured, lifting his head slightly. "You smell so good."

She swallows hard, puts some power in her voice just to let him know she's serious. "Sebastian"  
His eyes snap to hers intent and listening.He seems to come back to himself realizes just how compromising a position they were in. He backs off her immediately and moved to stand."Feel better?" she asked.  
"I'm okay" Sebastian said, although she didn't miss the way his eyes lingered on her chest as he turned away.

After that she started making more effort to spend time with Sebastian. She started waking him earlier so she could sneak more food. She encouraged him to do his homework in the sitting room so that they could talk. At first he was quiet and sullen, often unresponsive. But as a few weeks sped by, he became different by degrees, opening up a little, asking for her help with a difficult math problem or english question. He responded to her questions with a sentence instead of a nod.

Sebastian drank up the attention like a plant that had been starved of sunlight, and the more she gave him, the more he sought. More than once his gaze often strayed to her chest when he thought she wasn't watching. Once or twice she even caught him looking at her increasingly strong thighs. She didn't encourage it, but she didn't tell him to stop either. In truth she knew she craved it as much as Sebastian did. Father was often absent, busy with work when he wasn't busy with Sebastian. Lydia was careful to avoid him wherever possible.

She bided her time, until the tension was simmering beneath her skin at every moment. Waiting for a chance. One day a few weeks later, when Lydia was sure they were alone again, she went and found Sebastian frowning at his homework in his bedroom. "Sebastian," she murmured, beckoning to him from the doorway. He looked up at her, his eyes widening. Lydia almost never came to his bedroom except to sneak him things.  
"Lydia?" Sebastian said, getting up from his seat.  
"Father had to go out, he'll be gone for a few hours at least."  
"Oh" Sebastian said, his shoulders sagging with something like relief. Anger flashed through her chest but she forced it down. All sharp teeth and violence, hidden away. "Okay."

Lydia went to her room and hunted through her clothes for something to wear. She'd made a few efforts to dress more nicely, but her thighs were too thick (muscular) for short skirts, and her breasts were getting too large for most of her dresses. She pulled out a royal blue sweater she'd bought but never worn. it had space for her breasts and pinched in at her waist, flaring out again over her hips. She put it on, and preened in front of her mirror. Moving quickly she pinned up her hair and then hurried down to the kitchens to fetch some snacks for them.

Sebastian appeared in the doorway a minute later, fidgeting with the sleeve of his shirt.  
"Hello" Lydia said, standing on tiptoe to fetch crackers from the top shelf. Her skirt rode up as she stretched, brushing the tops of her thighs. When she turned back, Sebastian wouldn't meet her gaze. "What do you want to do?"  
Sebastian shrugged.

It was clear that he was tired from his lessons with father. So she just read while he ate. it wasn't long before his head began to droop. Lydia beckoned him closer. Sebastian stared at her for a moment uncomprehending and then he shuffled into her arms, laying his head against her shoulder.

"Sleep " Lydia said, stroking through his hair with her fingers. Sebastian made a sleepy grunt and nodded, his cheek brushing against the soft material of her sweater. Holding Sebastian as he grew heavier against her, falling into a light sleep. His chest rose and fell smoothly under her hand, and his slow breaths blew hot against the side of her neck. As he relaxed into sleep, he slid down, until his head was pillowed against her chest, his cheek The heat of him there made her heart race.

Lydia shifted her weight, and Sebastian blinked awake. She watched out the corner of her eye as he became aware of what happened, his ears and cheeks reddening. Lydia smirked and turned back to her book so as not to let him know she was watching him. But she didn't miss the way he rocked slowly, squirming slightly in his seat. His other arm lay beside her, and she reached out and brushed her fingertips very softly along the inner side of his forearm, stroking it ever so slowly.

Sebastian shivered and turned his head to look at her. "Do you like that?" He nodded, and she held out her own arm. "Want to?"  
His brow crumpled to a frown and he very seriously raised his hand and stroked her forearm gently, from her wrist to her elbow and she shivered too at his delicate touch. "Was that allright?" he whispered, looking up at her with wide eyes.

Lydia nodded."Feels good?"  
"Yes."  
"It's okay to feel good" she said, still stroking his arm slowly. She raised her hand and drew one soft fingertip down the side of his neck, pulling down the collar of his shirt. "There, does that feel good too?"

Sebastian nodded. He swallowed and bit his bottom lip, then he slowly lifted his hand and touched the side of her neck just below her ear. He drew his finger down slowly, tracing the line of her throat, brushing over the center of her collarbones, where he hesitated before keeping going, soft touch tracing right down to the divot between her breasts. He paused there, his gaze fixed firmly on her chest. He bit his lip again, and Lydia longed to pull his face down to her chest and hold him as long as he wanted.

But she couldn't risk them getting caught. Mother would be home from church very soon, and there was no telling when father would return. She nudged Sebastian's shoulder. "It's getting late."  
Sebastian scowled. "I'm not tired."  
"You are tired, and so am I." She leaned a bit closer, putting her mouth near his ear. She felt him shudder against her, and it was the most delicious thrill. "Okay," he said suddenly cooperative. "Good boy" Lydia murmured, watching as he got up from the couch, unable to walk straight. Her heart raced in her chest.

It's clear to her that father was uncaring if her brother starved. Mother was too much of a coward to go against him. The idea of her brother starving surrounded by the opulence they lived in deeply disturbed her.

So every few days she presents him with pears, small red oranges, and glass after glass of sour fruit juice. Sweet milky tea and cookies.One time on a particular cold day she snuck him a thermos of still warm borscht.  
(He'd hugged her for her thoughtfulness)

A package of ginger snaps from her lunch found its way into purse. If it ever found it's way into his schoolbag, well.After her birthday celebration, she gave him several Turkish Delights. (She had hid them in her napkin, slipped under the table without notice.)On nights when he can't sneak into her room, when she can hear his broken sobbing. she'll sneak him poached pears with honey after dinner. As they got older every few weeks, Sebastian would climb into her bed at night and she would hold him, grateful that she could at least do this to help him. Occasionally he sought her out after extremely difficult lessons,

(She just wanted him to know he had someone on his side. She didn't think it would lead to this.)

Sebastian starts talking back, he'll refuse food he doesn't want or request seconds, sleep in until Rowd is sent to fetch him. No amount of beatings seem to deter him. He voices his distain when he sees father digging his claws into her sweater clad shoulder, his voice curt and dangerous, laced with a snarl. For that farther beats him so badly that he almost breaks his wrist.  
He's sent crashing to the floor, his limbs sprawling. Sobbing openly, his throat bared begging. "Please no, father please, I'm sorry" (She can still hear his screams)  
It the kind of thing that'll stay in her nightmares for the rest of her life and doesn't go away no matter how much she'll will it to. She can't undo it, she can't make herself forget, and part of her believes that even if she could she shouldn't. There would be something evil in forgetting the pain, something beyond even words.

No, Lydia will never forget the sound of Sebastian's screaming. When she first hears it, she thinks that she must be hallucinating because no creature could make such an awful sound. Oh god, she doesn't want to think about what kind of pain he must be in. But then the screaming is getting LOUDER AND LOUDER AND LOUDER and she can't ignore or refute or pretend. The fear spurs her to her feet.

Sebastian's screams are fading into whimpers now, little noises that burn her all the same. "Shh," she murmurs, the comforting words spilling out her lips without her even thinking about it. Lydia's mind is a million miles away, hiding in a place where bad things don't happen. She wants to wake up, she wants to find out that this is a bad dream but she knows, she knows, that that isn't going to happen.  
She keeps insisting it's okay it's okay it's okay anyway because she still half believes the words can make it so. She needs to believe that nothing (truly) bad will happen to Sebastian otherwise –There is no otherwise. She will not allow it.

Perhaps it's in the hiss of complicit, and the ghost of implication. She wonders If she is guilty as if she had caused the wounds herself.  
She throws herself over him, burying her face in his neck. Now that the danger has passed, all the emotions are beating down on her like a storm. She almost–she can't–Lydia doesn’t know what she should do. She doesn’t know the right answer.She’s afraid. She pulls away because she’s afraid. Lydia has to believe that. She has to.

During her nightly shower she feels on edge.  
There was a low creak behind her. Lydia half turned her head, and caught a glimpse of a slim figure with ducking away. Her eyes widened and she smothered a gasp of surprise, What did this mean? Was this the first time he'd tried to spy on her in or had he done it before? The thought made her shiver.

She liked the thought of him watching her. He was almost sixteen so it was natural that he'd be curious. She picked up a cloth and soaped it up. From behind her she heard a soft gasp, and she smirked to herself as she lifted the cloth and ran it along her arm, from her fingers to her shoulder, squeezing it so the hot water trickled down her back, running down her spine.

The thought of Sebastian wanting her made arousal lodge in her stomach. Her nipples hardened in the steamy air, her breasts ache, Her aching pussy began to ache in more pleasant ways. Lowering her hand to the water she soaked the cloth again, then she turned to the side and tipped her head back and squeezed the cloth out over her breasts, so that the water ran over them in rivulets and dripped off her stiff nipples. She drew this out until her whole body hummed with anticipation.

As she relaxed she heard another creak, and the sound of the door closing softly. She passed him in the hallway one day with her books carried in her arms, keeping her head lowered submissively in the hopes he wouldn't notice her.

"Lydia."

Lydia's heart began to pound. She stopped, lowering her head further."What have you been doing with Sebastian?" he demanded. Lydia's heart slammed against her ribcage. "Nothing."Gustav hmphed impatiently. "I know Sebastian is a child still, but I won't have you coddling him like your foolish mother did."

"Yes, father." Then foolishly, she kept speaking. "He's lonely, I think-" "He has no time to be lonely." Gustav said sternly. He took a step closer to her and placed one hand on her shoulder. Lydia almost couldn't remember how to breathe. He was so close, reeking of liquor and cologne.

"I -"

"If you want to dress like trash and not a lady, then I'll treat you like one." he growled. He released her, pushing her back against the wall. "S-sorry father." Guystav's lip curled. "Sorry." he said, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Don't distract Sebastian, This is a very important time."

He crept foreword on light feet into her line of sight.  
Slim, blonde, narrow build, gentle hands: Sebastian.  
He didn't ask who did this to her, he just pressed his mouth into a tight thin line.  
His eyes scanned her body for other visible injuries, then he looked at her face again. "Do you want a hug?"  
The word sounded foreign, as if he couldn't believe what he'd said. "Yes" she said, getting to her feet.

He just nodded, and then buried himself in her arms. He hummed soothingly in a mimic of an alpha's deep rumble, and patted at her hair or rubbed her back. Naturally he pushed his face into her neck, breathing deep. "Do I smell better now?"  
He nodded. "You smell like you."

It was an accident, he swears.

How he feels about his sister is....complicated.

He's so going to hell for this.

He'd just gone in there to retrieve some bandages. Instead of the usual beating he receives, father had also delivered a firm backhanded slap during the end of his tirade, claws out. Hard enough to make his ears ring. After he's dismissed he goes down the hall to get a roll of bandages and alcohol for the scratches on his face. His head throbs, his cheek burns, not as bad as his wrist though.

He's still disoriented as he made his way to the bathroom on auto pilot, at first he didn't even realize anyone was in there. He gasps, moves to leave, hesitates. She doesn't seem to have noticed him. Should he let her know he's here? He is here for medicine after all, he sways on his feet feeling conflicted. He'll let her know he's here, he doesn't want to scare her.

Before he can speak the curtain shifts, he moves to duck behind the used towl bin. The curtain parts, he doesn't (want to?) Close his eyes in time.He saw was damp blonde hair and practically miles of toned gold skin. Lyda was nothing but compact, corded muscle. Has to fight down a groan, he shouldn't think of her like this. She's his sister for christ's sake but, oh she's the only one who's kind to him. Never when their father can see, not after the one dinner. He knows he's just going into preheat two days earlier than normal. That's the only reason he's having these thoughts (and dreams) the other day she smelled so good, it made his mouth water when she'd pass him by in the halls.

(Even he doesn't believe that lie)

The curtain closes again, he gets the bandages, his heartbeat roars in his ears. He shuts the door quietly behind him.  
Too late he remembers he never got the rubing alcohol, Lydia will probably bring him some later.


	3. Sebastian Has a breakdown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After he first moves in with Ches there is an adjustment period.  
> (His father threw him away, his father threw him away, his father-)
> 
> Sebastian age 16

After he first moves in with Ches there is an adjustment period.  
(His father threw him away, his father threw him away, his father-)

He's not ok, at first Ches just let him sleep. Occasionally poking at him to check if he was still alive. The first weeks living with Ches are a haze of self hate and guilt, monotonously dull days spent ensconced in their (Ches')  
room. Lying in bed. He stops crying after a while, because it’s exhausting and dehydrating, but he also stops doing things like eating. And showering. Little things like that.  
But by the fourth week Chesnok had had enough.

At some point the Ches opens the door, calls his name, comes in when Glam doesn’t bother to respond from where he’s curled under the covers. “Oh, thank fuck” He says when Glam stirs enough to crack an eye open and stare at him around the mound of his pillow. “I was afraid—” he cuts hinself off suddenly and looks down at his feet as though ashamed.

“What?” Glam growls. “Afraid I’d finally slit my wrists?” He rolls over. “Sorry to disappoint.”  
“I’m not disappointed,” He volleys back at him,  
Glam curls tighter into his cozy mound of blankets. "I’m okay. Just damn perfect.” He throws the blanket over his head to signal exactly how done he is with this pointless conversation, immediately nearly smothering in the warm, stale, sweat-scented air. He hears feet shuffling a little on the carpet. Glam waits for him to leave, but after an long silence he continues, “It’s just… it's dinnertime."  
"God damn it all" he snarls out.

"I'm going to go clean up."  
He sits up, wraps a blanket around his shoulders like a cape and pushes his greasy, uncombed hair pushed behind his ears as he purposefully avoids the question.“No, c’mon,” Ches pushes. “You can’t live on nothing. What gives?”  
He stares down at dragging blanket and cold bare feet with toenails that he needs to trim, and he suppresses a fresh wave of exclusion and loss. This is not where he’s supposed to be. And whose fault is that? Exactly?  
Ches watches him go with his brow creased in concern. Glam does shower, twice, and brush his teeth, comb his hair, clip his nails. Even shave, he changes into fresh(er) clothes given him by Ches.

When he exits feeling slightly less like a failure, he finds a bag of chips waiting for him. He really isn't hungry, just cold and tired. He crashes back in to bed.

If he won't eat chips and he wont eat dinner, he has to eat this, even if he has to cram it down his throat.  
Ches waits until he’s pretty sure that Glam’s asleep before sneaking into his room and edging the door shut behind him. Glam stirs when the bedside lamp is clicked on and Ches waits until he groggily rolls over to face him and holds a hand up to shade his eyes as he forces them open.  
“What the hell, Ches? He rasps.

“Here.” he presents it with a magician’s flourish. “Ta-fucking-da. For you.”  
“Oh,” Glam says, sitting up. “Uh…”  
He's opening it and pressing it into Glam’s loose hand, curling his fingers around it before he could argue.  
“I… already brushed my teeth.”  
“And you can brush them again. You’re eating that.” He says. “Mmm. Yum.”  
“But—”  
“Fuck you. You. Are. Eating. That.”

Glam gapes incredulously some more before hesitantly brings it to his mouth, and stalls for a second before actually putting it in and chewing. When he does, his eyes slide shut.

He pauses “Thank you.”

Even with Ches' desprate plan of tossing food at him or begging, pleading and outright demanding until he caves and eats just to make him stop. He still eats less than he should, Chesnok says that it's killing him to watch him do this to himself.

Most nights Glam lays in his bed at night and falls asleep to the sound of his growling stomach. His flesh is burning away to reveal his angry, jagged bones. They look like they're weapons of war. He's destroying what would hold him down, cutting away the excess. Light is beginning to emerge in all these new places now, It streams dips into the deep hollows of his collarbones. His hipbones thrust forward in a challenge, and even his cheekbones are starting to sharpen. His spine – like a chain, like gnashing teeth. His bones, will protect him like armor so that there will be nothing to fear anymore.

At night he wakes up covered in cold sweat, the last vestiges of a nightmare loosening their grip from his mind. His nails scrabble at his wrist, it hurts so much but the pain is familiar, grounding almost. (Someone save him. Someone needs to save him right now)

There is snow falling outside, the bar is rather dim, Glam doesn't mind, personally. he's had a headache all day and the sun hurt his eyes when they were walking over. But Ches was happy, so happy that he was leaving the bedroom and going to practice, and sort of eating. He is not interested in the celebration or the food or any part of it at all. Noise makes his (now frequent) headaches worse and he doesn't want to socialize. He wants to stay in his(?) room and be left alone. Winter has come now, and when it's cold like this, forget about all that goes into celebrating.

So he sits at the bar, Sebastian stares into his drink, blinking heavily, he drinks and drinks and stews in his thoughts. The more he drinks the harder it gets to keep his head in the right time, he drifts for a bit. God he's so tired.  
His head pounds and pounds, and his wrist, his wrist, he scratches and scratches.  
"Glam, there you are- what the fuck are you doing? Stop!"  
“No” he whispers desperately, “Don’t- touch” He sounds so scared.

“Glam, please calm down,” he pleads. “Please, just tell me what’s wr—”  
He’s not just drunk. Something is wrong, really wrong.Chesnok drags him away from the bar and to a less public area. He doesn't know who he's talking to anymore. He doesn't know what's happening anymore.

He groans from the floor, hunched, holding himself. Glam uncurls, his voice grows in volume with each word until he’s shouting. Despite the rage in his eyes, Glam begins to cry. 

DO YOU SEE ME? DO YOU!? NOBODY FUCKING SEES ME!! Nobody ever fucking sees me-” Back down to broken sobbing.

“He told me,” he spits, approaching, pointing an accusatory finger. “He told me you don’t care. That nobody in this goddamn world cares. Don’t fucking pretend that you’ve ever given a shit about what that asshole has done to me!"

Who, his father?

“Glam, please what are you talking ab—”  
He leans forward, traps him, His tears hit his face as he looks up. An angry fist bangs against the wall. “You know exactly what I’m talking about. Stop playing stupid. You’re always-” Bang. “fucking-” Bang. “doing that!”  
He’s delusional. Completely out of his mind, there’s no way he can reason with him.  
“Glam, stop!”  
“Shut up!” Glam cries. “You’re so fake, everyone in this family is fake, you’re all liars, he told m—”  
“What the fuck is going on?”

Their drummer stands in the doorway, jaw clenched, teeth grinding. Immediately, Glam turns around. He wipes his wet face with the back of his sleeve.

“Nothing.” He spits. “Just another day of nothing, just like every other fucking day here, right?” Glam snarls. Tears pour down his face, Glams’s fists clench.  
“No” he whispers desperately, “Don’t-”

“Paganini ” Ken takes a step forward, he sobs.  
When the drummer reaches out for him, they’re all forced back. “Don’t touch me!” he shouts, lashes out, his bawling grows louder. Lordi's eyes widen as he wrinkles his nose in… disgust? Horror? Ches can’t tell, but he definitely notices something is seriously wrong.

“I hate you so much! I hate this entire fucking family! You’re always- I hate it, I hate you, I… I—”

Family? What?

Glam cuts himself off, claps a hand to his mouth as his eyes go wide. Suddenly he doubles over, clutching his stomach as he spews past his fingers and onto the floor. His bandmates watch in stunned silence as he empties the contents of his stomach all over the floor, Splattering in three quick violent heaves. Glam pants afterwards, holds himself up with trembling arms.  
“Oh…”

Oh Glam, buddy.

Glam looks empty, physically, emotionally. Ches reaches out, smooths across his shoulders, takes him by the arm and hauls him up. “Come on, let's get you out of here.”

He leads him out through the back exit, takes him to get fresh air. His feet stumble, stutter on the ground. Ches tries to keep him upright. Then he stops walking altogether.  
“Glam? Come on, what…” trails off as he begins to hear the hissing. It’s surreal to look down and watch the growing stain on his pants, blooming, spreading fast down one leg. Glam sways, leans on him as he voids his bladder. 

“Oh… oh-” he doesn’t know what to do, just holds him upright until he finishes.  
He hears muffled bickering coming from inside the bar. Shortly after, Lordi stomps out onto the porch, arms crossed, watching them both. Before he can even react, a weight pushes against him. Chesnok catches Glam just as he falls unconscious,

Together they bring him to where they practice and lower him to the couch as gently as possible. he lays him down on his side and brushes the hair off his sweaty forehead. 

While he sleeps it off, they plan.


	4. Reprise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lydia age 24  
> Sebastian age 23

It's been a few years since she last saw him, he must be what twenty-three now? God, it's been so long. When she called him, she made it clear that she just wanted to talk about family matters. Father was ill, he doesn't know she's there, speaking to the disgraced runaway son In an upscale bar in the middle of town.

Private family matters should remain private. Or at the very least, unheard. She waves him down when she sees him lingering around the door. Sebastián approaches, sits down with her in the farthest corner of the bar.

He's taller now, he's still unmistakably her brother. It's bizarre to see him dressed the way he is, all leather, tight denim jeans and are those earrings glinting in his ears? He looks… tired. Always pushing himself too much, nobody could take that much pressure for so long, she would know. The alcohol is already getting to her head. She stares down at her empty glass.

She really shouldn’t have said anything.

His face goes through several rapid shifts. Pain, rage, grief, his expression settles on what she will later decide is pity. She can’t remember the last time Sebastian was so expressive. His brow is furrowed, teeth clenched, somewhere between angry and horrified. He presses the button on the bar to summon the bartender. Two fingers flash up in the air to request more drinks, Sebastian never breaking eye contact with her the entire time.

“That fucking asshole,” he snarls, reddened cheeks flushing even darker. “Did you ever tell on him?”

"No." She states simply.

Their new drinks are placed on the bar in front of them. Sebastian takes a heavy drink. Lydia circles her hands around the glass, taps her fingers. Sebastian swirls the remainder of the liquor in his cup. The third glass is finally finished. Sebastian places it on the bar with a heavy hand. There’s a crimson flush to his cheeks now, his eyes half-lidded, tired. 

There’s more silence between them. She finishes off her drink, summons the bartender to give them both new glasses. Sebastian waits until his new drink is placed in front of him to speak.

"Lydia-" he stops, starts again, stops.

Something stirs to the surface of Sebastian’s memory, some nights he’s long since buried. 

Memories slosh about his brain. So many things that happened that he’s really tried not to think about.

“Lydia ” he says again before taking a drink. “May I tell you something?”

She tilts her head slightly. “What?”

(Oh How he loves to shred himself with the truth.)

She Is caught completely off-guard. It’s something they had never talked about in the past. Miserable. All of them, the whole family. He stares her down for a moment before his gaze drops back to the drinks. She looks at him, pressing her lips tightly together. Gives him an expression Sebastian can’t read.

"After you left, father went mad." She states simply, her eyes bore into his own. 

Sebastian suddenly understands not wanting to know something. All of the sudden- Sebastian really doesn't want to know what she means by that, doesn't want to connect all the pieces he's been given so far.

It's horrifying. 

Almost more horrifying than the realization that Lydia took both his place and their mother's.

"Did- do, do you have-I mean Did father and y-"

She shakes her head neither confirmation nor denial.

“Lydia..." he trails off, staring, staring, millions of miles away. "Lydia you don't have to stay, You- you don't have to stay, you can leave." His eyes are wide, he looks at her desperately. Of course he thinks that.

"Ah but, that was the price I paid." Lydia smiles suddenly, It's cold, cruel and empty, a baring of sharp teeth. Sebastian stares into his drink, blinking heavily, head wobbling. Sebastian feels numb, Lydia drones on. He doesn’t speak. He does not trust himself with words.

She says his name but it is barely her voice, he looks at her and finally sees those eyes of hers directly upon him, he knows.

Sebastian staring off, his face completely vacant. Sebastian hasn’t moved for the past five minutes. He doesn't respond even, Which makes it very easy for Lydia to turn his head, lean in and presses a firm open-mouthed hungry, kiss to her brother’s shell-shocked lips. Then she turns and walks away.

"Lydia" he cries. He gets his shock frozen limbs to move, to chase after the only family he had left. He scrambles off the bar stool

"Lydia wait, please!" 

"Come back!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoever guesses what Lydia told Glam gets a cookie.


	5. Climax

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Sebastian was born, Lydia made a promise. A promise to protect him, She hasn’t done very good job at the protecting part.
> 
> He'd asked for so little, growing up in that gilded prison. 
> 
> She knows she shouldn’t be chasing this kind of attention from Sebastian. She craves it and so wants he to give it to her. Touch starved and neglected, the both of them.

She knows she shouldn’t be chasing this kind of attention from Sebastian. She craves it and so wants he to give it to her.  
Touch starved and neglected, the both of them.

He closes the door by kicking it firmly behind him. His hands were too busy feeling her up.  
When he breaks for air, she moans, sounds like she's falling apart actually.  
"Lydia" he says. "Lydia, look at me please."  
He runs careful hands through her hair to cradle her head.  
He noises, rubs his face right against hers.  
He kisses the apple of her cheeks, the underside of her jaw, her collarbones, his palms cradle her clothed breasts.

He drops his head into her shoulder and hisses through clenched teeth when she palms the shape of him through his jeans in turn.  
Not so little, her little brother. It's when she undoes his belt and the button of his jeans that he moves to stop her. "Lydia, are you sure you want to do this?"

"Of course I do" She says head held high, he lasts only a minute before he's devouring her in an open-mouthed bite. He presses her firmly up against the wall. His knee spreads her thighs, raises her skirt, and nudges against her. He rocks his hips against hers, so hard and desperate.Lydia undresses slowly for his benefit. He stares openly hungrily, as she strips her layers. Doesn’t blink as she unclasps her bra, her breasts spilling out. His blue eyes sweep over her body, he frowns at the sight of her scars, but it's not like he's any better. Then she decides that this is neither the time nor the place to be actually caring.

"Well?" She says in challenge.  
He steps forward, cradles her breasts in his hands, using his thumb to coax a nipple to erectness. His tounge sweeps out to taste her skin. Right now she tastes like sweat, perfume and want. She moans softly when he toys with her nipples. She’s not afraid of Sebastian, or of Sebastian’s hands on her body. When they were little she’s the one who would crawl into his bed. She was always afraid of nightmares (and father) Sebastian never minded, never turned her away, he'd even hold her hand sometimes.He'd been soft even then, would have made a better daughter.

He hid her weakness so in turn, she helped him hide his. She would put ointment on his wrist, not mom, she's the one who sneak him extra food after dinner. After his first heat things started to change between them, she wonders when she developed a crush on her brother, but- she would pick the lock, sneak in his room. She tells him stories, new and old, true and false, long and short. He listens with an interest that outshines his delicate condition. She brings him tea and small, red oranges, skirting fathers's orders in her mission to tempt his appetite; he accepts the treats with all the willingness he can muster. She sneaks into his room with toys, games, books, carvings she's made tiny enough to palm, and Sebastian is happier, and Lydia commits it resolutely to memory. For now, his happiness is a tentative thing Even her presenting as an alpha doesn't stop him. Her heart shattered in her chest when he walked in on her on fathers lap. Her skirt flipped up and his pants down. She never wanted him to see her that way. He'd just looked so damn suprised, then he walked away.  
Gustav laughed and gave another roll of his hips. it takes everything she has not to snap at father. She wants to claw his damn eyes out  
She can't deal with it, she barely can deal with her own life. She starts to pull away from him, from mom. She can't love him that way, it's painful and wrong. She still brings him food and bandages, but she no longer rubs his back. She doesn't try to reassure him or complement his playing. Love makes her cruel. It's not long before she's as cruel as their father. She remembers a conversation they had at thirteen. "Sebastian" " Yes?" “are you a virgin?” “…Yes.” She was always so carefully created, like a doll. He looks at her like she’s everything she knows she isn’t. "Bed" she snaps out, she can feel his pianist fingers tremble against her breast. He dips his head to kiss her again, he slants his mouth over hers.

He hauls her up in a suprising show of strength, her legs wrap reflexivly around his hips, god he was hard enough to cut glass. In a few rapid strides they were in his bedroom.First time. It’s his first time, that much was clear.  
He's just so attentive, not like their father at all.  
Gustav sober isn't even half the man Sebastian when drunk is. His bed squeaks in protest as he lays her out beneath him. He runs his hands along the bare lengths of her legs. She sits up "Off" she demands imperiously. He backs up to give her space then he removes his shirt and tosses it. "This as well" she says hooking her fingers in his belt loops and tugs. He obeys, removes his pants and boxers in one swift move.  
His dick bounces, curves up to his belly. She did that. It thrills her. His cock keeps twitching, it’s a good size.  
She touches herself spreads her pussy for him to look. He settles between her legs, holds her thighs, watches. She eases two fingers down, spreads her entrance. He leans in, his gentle fingers touching hers, playing with her slick.  
Sebastian swallows tightly. He licks his lips. He looks at her like a miracle. His mouth moves like he wants to say something.

“Do you want to?”  
Sebastian looks up at her face.  
“Do you want taste me, Sebastian?” She swirls her fingers around her slick. Brings them right to his lips, she pushes them in. He sucks the taste of her off her fingers, uses his tounge hot wet sweeps to get it all. Sebastian wastes no time. He leans down, licks her folds nice and slow, Sebastian licks his sister’s pussy like she’s delicious, presses his face to her cunt, shoves his tongue deep inside.  
Lydia moans, He keeps her legs spread while he explores. It’s clear he has no idea what he’s doing, but he isn’t rough. He's a quick study.  
She moans, pulls him up.Her nails dig into his scalp. Kisses his hot, slick lips. “How’s it taste?”  
“Good.” He gasps, licks his lips. “Wet."

"Ready?" She asks. He nods, whimpers softly. She slides a hand down his body, taking ahold of his cock.  
He shudders replaces her hand with his own. it’s just hot, so hot and slick as he rubs it against her. Up and down her slick folds, up and down. Then he positions it just right.  
“Go ahead” She tells him her head slung back against the pillow  
It only hurts a bit, a stretch but she’s so wet and It’s a good fit. She moans his name. He makes this gasp when he sinks in all the way. His hips stutter, pulling out, pushing back in, pushing in deeper. She squeezes tight around him.  
His cock slices through her cunt, glides so perfectly, stretches her just enough. He lurches forward, latches on her neck with his mouth. His hips suddenly buck foreword hard. She gasps. He sucks, rhythmically, tongue laving. He scrapes his fangs against her glands. She moans, his want for her only making her wetter.

She watches as Sebastian’s face turn red. Sebastian flushes down to his chest, He presses his eyes shut. She isn’t sure if he can speak. Sebastian fucks into her with deep stilted thrusts, Lydia's strong thighs clamped around his slim waist. Her breasts swaying, pink nipples brushing against him, the bedhead is drumming against the wall with rhythmic thuds  
He unhooks his teeth from her skin. “Not gonna last-“ Sebastian’s eyes squeeze shut, flutter open, he groans again.  
“Sebastian“ She gasps, hips grinding against his. “Inside-“She’s so wet, his thrusts squelch. she writhes against him, pushing her body against his. She can feel his knot, Fuck, Sebastian’s hips stutter, stop. He makes this strangled whimper when his knot catches. She wraps her legs around his waist, pulling him in as deep as possible. He holds her close as he trembles. Hot, full and warm. She can feel his seed as it drips out of her. She strokes his spine.

After that he curls around her, just holds her. She leans back, curls her hand against his chest, inhales his scent deeply.  
“Is that what you’ve been doing, then?” she asks slender fingers playing absently amongst the fine blonde hair of his chest. “All this time? He never does answer her.  
Sometime the next day when he wakes up in his apartment. His head pounds, he feels off. The room reeks of booze and sweat after a cursory sniff sex? He remembers he's not alone, He rolls over and is confronted with a thick mane of wavy blonde hair and somewhat familiar back. A very naked, female back.  
This is the worst thing he's ever done.

He moves the bedspread to better cover her body. It feels wrong looking at her, even after what they did. She rolls over and burrows deeper, soaking up his scent.What has he done? She was vulnerable and looking for affection and he took advantage of that. Except, except she was the one who drank him under the table first. She was the one who came on to him, she's the one who took and he was all too happy to give. And give and give, all the love he's ever felt for her.  
(Excuse, that's an excuse)

She sits up winces against the suns glare, he can see the many love bites and bruises he left on her body. They don't speak, she moves to collect her clothes, he wants to reach out. To say something that could fix this. Instead he just watches his seed roll down her leg. His brain stutters and crashes when he relizes what that could mean. He came inside? What was he thinking? He wasn't, he wasn't thinking at all.  
What if he got her pregnant?  
He knows that it takes more than one time for most to get pregnant, but the Shvagenbagen line was always very fertile. Oh god, oh god he's ruined their lives.


	6. it's only natural/After party/Drifter/Baby fever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victoria knows omegas aren't supposed to pursue alphas, that's not how it works.
> 
> It was hotter than hell in the afternoon in that bar. They're both drunk, which may have something to do with the choice of subject when Victoria says:
> 
> "Well Glam, what do you know about sex?"
> 
> Too much booze and too little food again, Ches would kill him if he saw him like this again. He'd deserve it too,  
> Dammit what has he done?
> 
> He's always craved the physical touch and he knows part of it is because he'd hardly gotten any growing up. (Except pain, pain, pain pleasestopplease FATHER I'M SORRY)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Glam/Sebastian age 25  
> Victoria age 23

Victoria knows omegas aren't supposed to pursue alphas, that's not how it works. But when he chases her down just to give her her keys back, he just so determined. When in the hospital, he presents her keys with all the reverence of a courting gift. And later when they had both healed he had presented her with sketches of her in surprisingly high quality.

She could be forgiven for thinking he was just a young recently bachelored alpha. When he says no and even lets her take several breaths of his scent to confirm it. He stays still and blushes at her curious snuffles.

She always thought she would end up with another alpha not omega. Almost everyone in her family were alphas both men and women.

She had been the smallest of her mothers pups growing up. So she's not as tall as her brothers or sisters, but she's certainly built as thick as they were. If she ever chose to carry pups, it would be no problem.

When he lets slip that he's never been courted by anyone, because his parents had been so sure he would be an alpha. Even highschoolers had tried their hands at courting, alpha or not.

They go on motorcycle rides, she teaches him how to ride a motorcycle. They go to movies and concerts. She can't afford to give him what he deserves, but she'll be damed if she didn't try. She gives him the first gift after a ballet concert. Guitar picks and leather polish, she holds them out. “For you. ‘Cause I know ya lost one the other day.” He takes it carefully and his eyes are bright, taking in the Victoria’s delighted preening as he says, “Thank you, Alpha.”

She likes the way he goes flushed and smells pleased every time he gets a gift, any gifts she gives him are small and practical: new guitar picks, some leather polish, a book she saw him eyeing the other day. There is almost no production to it. She will stride twords him and rub her fingers over his arm before dropping her newest offering into his hand.

It was hotter than hell in the afternoon in that bar. They're both drunk, which may have something to do with the choice of subject when Victoria says:

"Well Glam, what do you know about sex?"

"Not much" he admitted.

"Just the mechanics from my tutors. It is not like I had much chance to experiment or read about it when living with Ches."

"So You've never been with anyone?"

He colors, his scent changes, reeking of embarrassment. "No, I've never even been courted, why would I have? He's nervous, so nervous his mouth was dry, He swallows spasmodicly. He aims for a casual: 

"Have you?"

She snorts, finishes her beer in one swallow.God, there’s nothing like the taste of a crisp cool beer. "Well Yeah, but it was only to blow off some steam, nothing to it." She says wiping her mouth with a fist. 

His long slender fingers taped the rim of his glass lightly. He'd crossed his ankles, and the jacket Victoria gave him hung tied around his slender hips. She stared at him, looked from his loose open shirt down to his skinny knees.

He gave an awkward laugh, a sweet sort of shy giggle. Then he reached to fidget with one of of his wristbands, she was quickly learning meant.'I'm nervous'. 

"Glam?" She says. His blue doll-like eyes were getting glassy. "Mmm?" He says tiredly.

She stared at him. "You're drunk"

"No!" He said, too quickly. "It's just, I never."

Aw, it can wait until tomorrow," she cuffed his shoulder lightly.

"Let’s get you home" she moves to offer him a hand up. Her hands were only half the size of his own, calloused and strong. He stands,"I'm fine" He said quickly. She shot him a considering look. "Is that what you think?" She asks.

"Probably?" he answered weakly. Then he's shaking his head. His hair was curlier from sweat, bouncing against his neck and ears. He was flushed in a way that had nothing to do with the heat.

"You ever got this sloshed before?"

"Yes" He said confidently. "But not lately, I have before. I was a real, uh animal at Chesnok's."

When they leave the bar she's sure he won't be able to hold on to her if she drives. She settles in for a long walk with a drunk and handsy suitor.

"Victoria" He leans into her 

"I live here, um..." His voice trailed off, He had forgotten. "Around there" he gestures vaguely, stumbles a little. "I remember" she said. He was so delicate and fine boned, as he tipped his head the curve of neck caught in the lamplight, and she simply wanted to...hold him a bit, thats all, yeah. "You're not yourself."

He snorted. "What? I'm the same me I've always been."

His house couldn't come up fast enough she thinks.

Looking down at her from under his long, delicate lashes. He swallowed thickly. He paused gathering his courage. "Vikki" he said hurriedly. 

"Do you want to-"

His skin fairly glowed, its luminescence starker against his blush, and his blue eyes looked huge in his face. His plush pink mouth was parted in question. Fuck it, any Alpha worth their knot would want to be with him.

"You're home" she says. She needs to leave before they do anything he'll regret. A smile moved slowly over Glam’s face and he nodded, then he looped his thin arms around her neck. "Will you kiss me goodnight?" he whispered, leaning in close enough to lick Victoria’s cheek. "Make me feel better?"

She shuddered. "You don't need to-I mean, that's not -" "Victoria" he laughed again wriggled, trying to press closer against her body. "Kiss me"

"Glam" she says meaning to push him away. But she couldn't resist the way his hands were drawn to his body. They settled on his hips, and she choked a little bit when she realized she could almost circle Glam’s entire waist with the span of her hands. 

His hands were in her hair now, tuging, loosening the braid she'd placed there that morning, running his fingers through the thick strands. "Please?" he crooned, "Just once." He whispered. "Alright" she says, before tipping his chin down and kissing his soft lips. He tasted sweet, his mouth was warm and smooth. She drew back after a moment, searching his face. "Good?"

He gave a strangled moan, squeezed Victoria's waist in an answer and she kissed him once more, licking into his mouth to taste the eager sounds he was making. She clutched at his slim thighs with a groan. "Victoria" He pressed a another kiss to her mouth, pulls back biting his bottom lip sharply. "Stay the night with me?" he whispered.

"No," she said quickly, but her protest was weak. "We shouldn't Gl -""Stay with me" he said insistently.

"Not tonight" she says.

"I'll see you tomorrow" she promises

He tosses his shirt and kicks off his boots before falling roughly into his bed. The next morning when he gets up he curses a blue streak, staggers into the bathroom to vomit. Too much booze and too little food again. Ches would kill him if he saw him like this, again. Head cradled in his hands, his naked back settles against the cool-feeling porcelain. The knobs of his spine press uncomfortably against it. He stands, ignoring how badly the room spins.

His head pounds furiously as he scrubbed his face, scrubbed hard, harder, and he choked on the scalding water. His bangs drip against the tip of his nose. His head tilts forward. His thoughts keep nawing at his brain. Over, and over, and over.

Dammit what has he done? 

He doesn't-he's never acted like that before when drunk. When he had lived with Ches he started drinking, it was only every once and awhile, after they'd have a long stretch of gigs.

There were nights where he would stumble out of bed, still shaking from nightmares, he'd reach for the half finished beer cans Ches always had laying around. The next morning he vomits up a stomach full of beer. He doesn't have a problem, the nightmares, the fact that he goes tense every damn time he hears the violin, that he can't bring himself to go anywhere near the other side of town, this is getting ridiculous, it's been almost a year. They can't touch him anymore.

When Chesnok finds him, head half in the toilet. Having vomited the mostly alcoholic content of his guts out for the third day that week. Chesnok explodes at him, he hasn't seen him that angry since. Chesnok tells him, eyes hard that he wasn't allowed to drink anymore, he can't keep doing this to himself.

They take a break from shows for a while, Chesnok says that he should eat more, that he's starting to scare their fans with how thin he's getting. Maybe go to the doctor?

He refuses a doctor out of reflex, but he bends on the eating, with Ches properly mollified, he takes his next course of action. He's still working on being a real person and not a puppet, but he's getting there.

He's walking with Victoria to a restaurant that she likes when it happens.

"So what happened with you last night?" She asked.

She asks, so he tells her so. Not about his father’s obsession with his weight, or the booze soaked father-son conversations. But why he doesn't eat the way she does, then it gets colder. She starts plying him with food, nothing ridiculous. Just small snacks really.  
Some pastilla one day, the next she gives him piroshki, still warm. 

Another day she presents him a small chocolate charlotte cake. If his hands shook when he ate it, it's just because of the cold. (Too fat his father’s voice hisses over and over.)

She drags him to all her favorite places to eat until he has her orders memorized and a favorite of his own. Overall it's enough to add more lustre to his hair and extra color to the apple of his cheeks.

Now gifts of food came with every courting gift,

It was growing colder, the meaning of the gifts changed: a spare set of motorcycle keys, his favorite make up, a ceramic mug and a bag of his favorite coffee blend, and finally a set of the softest blankets she's ever come across.

Her own childhood had been rough, she knew that her parents loved them. She and her siblings all scrabbled for attention sure, most of her clothing were hand-me-downs from her smallest brother. Their parents took the best care of them they could. Unlike the blonde male she was currently courting. No wonder he'd never realized how beautiful was (His parents threw him away.)

Things changed after her brother died in a fight over territory. She took his position at their shop. (She drops out of school to do so, it's fine, she doesn't think she'll graduate anyway.) Her dad starts drinking his weight in booze so she takes over for him too. When she turns eighteen cuts her ties and leaves with little more than her (dead) brother's clothes on her back and next to no money to her name.(Packless)

She starts picking fights, and she wins and wins, she keeps winning. She drifts from city to city, picking up odd jobs at repair shops always pushing down the need to settle.

She finally caves, gets herself a small apartment. She works at a local repair shop. There's still a burning in her blood, her claws itch. She joins a club called The Morning Beavers, establishs her place there.

They were alone at her garage where she worked on her bike. Normally he'd just be content to watch her work in her element. Sometimes he'd present her with a sketch or two of her at work.(She keeps all of his gifts in a solid oak chest in her bedroom.)

But today, he kept fiddling with the coverings on his wrists.(nervous habit) She keeps him in the corner of her eye just in case.

She'd thought he kept his wrists covered because he was traditional, then she thought he kept them covered because they were sensitive,(some people do it to avoid having them brush against others) maybe he had a bad experience on the transport. She's heard of omegas being felt up in public before.  
She decides to take a break, maybe ask Glam if he wanted to go eat some pizza with her.

He hops down from the chair he was sitting on. There's a slouch in his shoulders, a nervous tick in his fingers. His eyes darted from corner to corner, never really looking straight at her. She swallows something heavy inside her chest.

"Glam?"

She turns to face him fully, because-because something in the way he's acting is causing Victoria’s stomach to twist. She watches him swallow, sees his adams apple bob.  
He says "Victoria, I want to show you something." And she knows from the way he says it that it's nothing good. He pulls off his wristbands and turns his inner wrists to her.  
All Victoria sees is red.

When he presented his wrists to her, he doesn't like how her scent goes sour, bitter, sharp in an instant. She stares at his wrists, stares for a very long time, even though it's probably only a couple of minutes. He tenses when she reaches out, holds his wrist. He goes utterly still, stops breathing even when she kissed his scars. The tears he'd shed had been shameful, but not surprising. 

He’d been holding them in since the evening before, he’d been too nervous to eat properly in last twenty four hours. He felt like his stomach was full of pins.(That was bad, he knows Victoria would be disappointed.)

(She deserves to know, if- if continues to where he thinks it is.)

She uses her hold on his wrist to tug him into a firm a hug, she smells his tears and listens to his uneven breathing. He kisses the underside of her jaw. (sorry) she tightens her grip. And then suddenly he's kissing her, he's kissing her and he's still crying. The kissing was nice but the crying, even though he didn't smell of sadness anymore was not. 

She pressed him back against the chair, moving to let him go, give him space. But he clings so tightly that she can't. Using her free hand she touches his face, watches him close his eyes and lean in.

Against her hand, his jawline feels too sharp. 

She takes a few steps back, still bearing his weight presses him right up against the wall instead. His hips stuttered forward against her thigh. He tosses his head back, offering his throat to her. And god if that wasn't underwear soaking material, nothing is.

Her brain tells her posture, her every instinct alive. Her tounge tracing a hot line along his throat, when she laps at the hickeys she's sucked into his skin, the small noise he makes going straight to her dick.He'd hooked his teeth into her neck, his point was clear.

He huffs, tongue lapping at the bite.It wasn't a real mating bite, but he will, when their den was prepared and he was healthy, for her he will.

He presses closer into her warmth, breathing in her scent, almost preening under her attention. He can feel his body start to relax. 

Only to be disturbed by the noise of someone whistling appreciatively. An intruder, male, Alpha.

She immediately drags him behind her, he feels her body coil and he knows she’s preparing to fight. There’s a threat, his brain supplies uselessly, Victoria is protecting you.

The person flashes their hands up in surrender.(this was her territory)

Victoria answers in a deep rumbling growl he can feel in his bones. Glam echos her, snarls flashing his fangs.

He knows how they must look. Wrecked, high on pheromones and aggressive. He feels a self-satisfied haze come over him. Yes, he thinks be afraid. My alpha is strong, she'll destroy you. This is her territory after all, and he was hers. Everything feels hazy. Victoria is still wrapped around him. She’s trying to shield his body from view. He feels touched. He likes it, likes her so, so much. 

she's holding his hand and their running, running isn't like her, he's struggling to keep up. She decides to just carry him, he takes deep breaths of the wintery air and listens to the crunch of her boots in the snow.

"God, Glam you smell like you're practically in heat already "

“Yes, I know.” She starts a little when he says it and a deep flush works its way up her neck. She ducks her head to check on him and he can smell her pleasure. Her satisfaction at that statement.

She puts him down only to free her hands enough to get her keys. Before he knows it they're in her apartment and in her bedroom.  
Guiding Glam to the rumpled bed, then she kicks off her shoes, collapsed back onto the sheets. She tells him to sleep at some point. She lays awake for hours, just listening to his even breathing. She can’t sleep because everything is cold and her skin feels raw. She never runs, never backs down, she was too proud to. She will not, no, can not risk him

She gets up to make a pot of tea, she almost feels bad when Glam stirs a little before rolling over. She's comforts herself with knowing that she isn't really leaving.( And that she's making a blend she knows he likes)  
Taking a deep breath, she knocked on the frame of the door.

The bright white light of the mid afternoon sun outside provided enough light that Victoria could see the shallow angles of his sunken cheekbones. His blond hair was messy and sticking up at odd angles. His head snapped up. He blinked at her, smiled. She sets the mugs down, he peeled back the blankets pats the bed in invitation

They sat in silence, drinking their tea. Somehow, Glam still managed to look pretty while bedraggled. His posture was stil perfect.

She eyed him, she should have caught on months ago.  
But she can't go back and change things now she can try to make sure her mate is getting a decent night's sleep safe and comfortable.  
"Vikki, the people at your club, do they challenge you?"  
Victoria shrugged. “Lots of them. It’s pretty bad for of them. They need someone to keep them in line" She took breath.  
"I don’t think that's going to be me"  
“I know.”  
“I wasn’t going to-.”   
“I have scars too.” Glam blinked, taken aback by her sentence.  
“Oh.”  
“Their all from territory fights, they’re pretty terrible."  
She continued. “Most are from when I was younger.”  
“I never run from a fight.” She turned to stare at those bright blue eyes.  
“I know.” Of course he did.  
He reached out his hand and placed it atop of hers. “Were you hurt today?”  
She gave him a smile. “No”  
She brushed all her hair to the side.  
She shushed him for a second, and then took off her sweater.Now wearing only a tank top, Victoria pointed to her back and twisted around.

Glam’s trembling hands lifted up her shirt carefully, and gasped at the sight on her back, carved from scar tissue. It ran down from the base of her neck, the worst right above her tailbone. His shaking fingers lifted up to trace the web of scarring that decorated her body. They were angry red, faded pink and white, it created a canvas of colors on her freckled skin. They wrapped around her back and up and around her rib cage.

Glam stared at her with wide eyes, letting the hem of the tank top drift back down.

“Vikki?” His voice cracked. 

“My love?”

Then suddenly, his arms were around her, and his nose was pressed against her, and hot liquid dripped into her hair. She turned, wrapped her arms around his chest, and let her own tears fall onto the sheets. Victoria finally allowed herself to feel exhaustion and collapsed onto her mate. She didn’t know what their future held. She didn’t know what to feel anymore. She just let herself be held.

In early November, the air was biting and there was snow on the ground she asked him "Do you want to move in with me?"

He says yes.

After he'd moved all his things to her home, it didn't take long before before they were settled and he began to build a den. She would bring him things for their den every few days. He hadn't been able to have one before, it felt right to have these things that smelled of her arranged just so, their scents mixing. She was always so keen to scent him, rubbing against his throat and ear so that everyone would know who he belonged to. After all, they were technically an unmated courting pair.

She made sure that he ate every day, even when the voice of his father still hissed in his ears that he was worthless and that any pups he bore would be weak like him. For so long he thought that no one would want him, he may have been of good breeding but he was a male omega, and he had been rendered both scarred and packless. He was damaged goods, he knew that, she knew that, she didn't care.

They had been concerned if he would be able to carry any pups to term. He was just so thin, all birdlike bones and lean compact muscle. He was scared, he didn't grow up with a proper pack, when he lived with Ches in what had amounted to an underaged bachelor pack his sleep schedule and eating schedule had been eratic at best during those years.

One day he asks: 

"What would people say if you carried my pups Vicky?"

"Fuck 'em" she snarls out " They don't know shit Glam".

"Ok" he says into her jacket.

He'd smelt like only himself for so long. 

When it's six p.m, she struts into their living room with dinner. Glam’s head snaps up, tracking the Alpha’s movements.

She smells...different. She always smelled musky and sharp and mouth-wateringly good. He whines a little and then he freezes.

“Glam?” she murmurs, her voice pitched low and curious and he blinks, shakes himself out of it, and forces a smile.

“Sorry”

She shrugs, and watches him as she settles across from the Omega, laying the food out and waiting patiently until Glam begins eating.

They don’t talk, but then they don’t usually talk when she brings him food, something he appreciates right about now. Today Victoria has a day off, after dinner she sprawls across their couch and watches him read until she falls asleep. She’s distracting, with her heavy scent and deep breathing and the deceptively soft curve of her lips. His gaze slowly tracks down, down, down over her sleeping form, and snags on her crotch.

She’s an Alpha, and she’s big, even sleeping and soft, Glam's mouth waters a little, thinking about it. He almost falls out of his chair as he jerks back, so startled that he curses.

“Shit,” she groans, dragging herself upright. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.” she smiles sheepishly at him.

“It’s OK, sweetheart.”

She grins at that, blushing the way she always does when he uses the endearment. She stands and stretches, her shirt riding up to expose a thin line of her belly and he bites his lip to keep from whining. Then she’s squeezing Glam’s shoulder and walking away. “I'll be back later, Glam.”

She’s gone before he can respond, and he almost collapses into his chair, the scent of his Alpha washing over him, and the undeniable urge to beg for Victoria's knot still pressing against his teeth. The scent doesn’t go away. It gets thicker and richer. Sometimes Glam bristles when she comes to their house smelling like anyone he doesn’t know. He wants to rub against Victoria, wants to cover her in his scent and bite her neck, claim her so every bitchy Alpha or Omega knows she’s taken.

He's not suprised when later that week he goes into his first real heat in years. They almost don't make it to his nest before she's tearing at his clothes. “Mine,” she slurs, licking at his throat. “My Omega.”

"Yours" he pants out.

He thinks she ripped off the button in her haste to unzip his pants, he's so desperate he doesn't care. He's crying with relief her fingers were finally sinking inside him. 

He orgasms convulsively around his loves fingers. He's so full, he's never been this full, his own fingers had never been quite enough to satisfy the burning ache. He whines high in his throat when she removes them, but he goes very still when she stretchs out over him, kissing the line of his throat and pressing her teeth into his glans. 

He gasps her name again and spreads his legs further to better cradle her hips, he's never spent his heats with anyone before. When he was a young teenager he'd spend all his heats locked in his room. He remembers his body burning as his teeth grit to keep in his tears of shame, As his hand worked in two then three fingers into himself. The other occupied pinching his nipples and jaw clenched tight trapping any noises his body might make.

He smells blood, his. He'd bitten through his lower lip. She sits up, running a hand through her sweaty bangs, he can see her erection straining the fabric of her jeans.

"Glam, get up."

"Sorry" 

Briefly he expects her to be angry, he'd just denied an alpha her right to breed him, he expects her to pin him, to order him to be still, to bite him even if he cried. She doesn't do any of those things, she's nothing like his monstrous alpha of a father. Instead she stands. He follows her, his head lowered submissivly. 

She brings him to the bathroom, orders him to sit, then runs him a bath. He gets undressed, revealing his body, even with Victoria's care he was still too thin, male omega's were usually slim and dainty but they also had a layer soft fat that he doesn't. She stays, even when he can't meet her eyes. She helps him wash, knowing he's shaky, her calloused hands are gentle, avoiding his overly sensitive nipples and swollen cunt. She helps him step out of the bath and into her arms, she helps him towel off before wrapping it securely around him. He trails behind her back into their bedroom feeling very small.

She gives him one of her shirts, on her it would be almost too tight, displaying her powerful form, a true alpha, regardless of primary sex.

But on his frame it hung of his shoulders, despite his unusual height for an omega he was much lighter than her. She tells him to lay down, he obeys without question. She gets into bed, clasps him to her ample chest, curling around him, pressing one of her thick thighs between his legs to help relieve the ache of an unsatisfied heat. She was so good to him, she truly was. That's how he sleeps for the next several days, his body covered in the scent of his mate-not yet mate. Safe in their new den.

She would bring him off with her fingers and teeth and tounge. He wasn't well enough to take her knot yet. So instead of her being properly satisfied, she spent his first few heats bringing him off and feeding him up.

As he grew closer to the age he would present, his father grew ever stricter. He'd had his first heat at thirteen, it was agony, his body burned with fever. He was sweating so much that his sheets stuck to him his hair was matted with sweat. The seat of his pants was soaked through with slick. His father had burst in, dragged him to his feet, grabbed him by his upper arm. And dragged him sweating and crying into the bathroom. He ripped his clothes off him and turned on the water on full blast in their shower before roughly shoving him in.

"Sebastian, my only son, an omega, how Disgusting." he spits before slamming the bathroom door closed. He'd expected it to hurt, after his first heat. His mother had sat him down and told him what he was to expect, that he would never disobey his alpha, that he had to be escorted by an alpha at all times, that he would be married off before he was eighteen like she was. After running away from home and becoming stray-not a stray. When living with Ches there just wasn't enough food, so as unhealthy as it he went without having heats for much longer than he should have. When he did have them they were short and sporadic. Ches would leave him with a bottle of water and canceled any concerts they had.

He's always craved the physical touch and he knows part of it is because he'd hardly gotten any growing up. (Except pain, pain, pain pleasestopplease FATHER I'M SORRY)

She let's him work his fingers into her thick red mane, she whispered his name against his throat and rumbled in his ear before drawing back to nuzzle his neck again. She gets a dizzying lungful of Glam’s scent. He smells so good. He rubs his cheeks against hers, scents her neck in return and nips her jaw lightly.

“I’m gonna breed you as long as you need, knot you till I’m completely empty-“

She devoted her full attention to the slick swollen slit between his legs. She enjoys playing with his the pink flesh, coaxing more fluids to spill from him, soaking his blonde curls.

She thrust two thick fingers into his clenching hole while the heel of her other palm ground against his swollen prick. Her fingers curled inside him and did something. His world exploded into raw sensation as his muscles convulsed in a series of orgasms. Every nerve in his body sang.

When she removes her fingers he cries out softly, clenches his teeth. His body gushes, he wants it, wants to be bred. 

“Don’t do that Glam, I wanna hear you" she says husklily. "you're so wet, so wet for me.“ His body aches with need. His slick drips down his thighs.

"Ready?“ she whispers as she rubs her wet cockhead against his slick pussy. It parts the folds nice and easy, the smooth jutting shaft sliding between his drenched slit, renewing his arousal. It’s burning hot. He feels a cramp of heat in his insides, aching to be filled. 

“Victoria“ he chokes desperately. “I need-I need you“ 

“Please“ he whimpers. She pants, presses harder, thrusts against his weeping hole. Her cock is so big. He doesn’t think it'll fit- his first time with anyone. Then there was pain, It aches, it burns, stretching his delicate flesh, ripping something inside as it forced past the virginal resistance and into his untried body. But then he's gushing, it lubes the way.

“Victoria!” His voice cracks as he loses control. She stops moving, her powerful thighs shake with strain, he can feel her hips trembling with the effort of keeping still. His cunt stretches around her length, the clenching ache from before was partially soothed.

“Shhhh, it's ok, I'm gonna take care of you-“

She grinds out. She hisses fighting the urge to just retreat and slam back into him. He was so tight his cunt was like a velvet fist around her cock.

"You're so tight, You feel so good." Her voice was strained. She thrusts again. “Gonna breed you.” In response to her words his muscles clenched drawing another pleasured hiss, she felt him shift. The action allowed her to slide even deeper and bottom out.

"Don't Stop “ he chokes, clings, hangs on for dear life. Victoria’s thrusts pick up speed. He cries out with every one. She grunts again, low and animalistic. So deep, her cock carves into his body. She fucks like an animal, powerful, quick and feral. He can’t keep quiet anymore, he can barely breathe. Then he feels the beginnings of her knot, swelling out the base of her cock. 

“Victoria “ He chokes out and her hips snap. “knot me-“

She pushes, thrusts in as deep as she can. Then her cock starts to swell, tying them together. She thrusts one more time, hard and deep, her knot catches. He tries to catch his breath as her cock grows, swells inside. So impossibly thick, he can feel it ready to burst against the entrance to his womb. And then it does.

He shudders, groans low in his throat. Then her thick hot seed squirts into the depths of his womb. Her cock throbs and twitches, fills him. He can feel the pulse of his own cock, the flex of her heavy balls against his sopping cunt as he trembles, moans for her as she breeds him. 

Her powerful form shakes. The thickness of her knot keeps it all in as nature intended. His orgasm hits him again, hard and unexpected. He bit his bottom lip bloody as his climax washed over him for what felt like an eternity. 

He sobs, his seed splattering against his stomach, body lighting up with pleasure. She gently withdrew her fangs and lapped apologetically at the wound she'd made.

She croons his name softly as his body spasms again. His womb drinking in her seed. Her muscles trembled from the intensity of her release. It felt like she had flooded him with what felt like five times her usual load; his hot wet flesh massaged her shaft, practically milking her dry.

He feels heavy, almost drunk with it. 

As she finishes off. He trembles around Victoria’s massive knot, beneath her heavy body. Victoria is built for breeding, powerful, fertile, comepletly dominating him.

“Oh god Victoria“ he whispers, shaking apart as his body comes down from it's high. His pussy clenches and his hips tremble, shifting around. Halfway through moving she tips his hips back, pins him in place. Her eyes are dark, her face and shoulders were flushed, her full chest heaves with heavy breaths.

He's hard again he thinks.

"What's this?” she growls almost teasing. "Where you not satisfied?" She purred. 

"Do you want more?"

She takes his dripping cock in hand, strokes it. His body responds desperately, “ Ah Vict-" 

He hissed and grabbed her wrist. If she continued playing with him he would not be able to stop his climax. He's trembling. (He wants to say that this part of him doesn't matter, that she didn't have to touch him there) there's no way he's big enough to satisfy her, why is she interested in this?)

She rocks her hips, she can't move much, tied as they were. She presses against a particular spot that caused him to climax. He lost track of how many times he came at this point. 

"It hurts." he murmured weakly.She stops toying with him. Carefully she shifted and lowered his body to the nest. She heard him wince slightly as her partially deflated knot worked out of his channel with a slight sucking noise. She could see the white fluids oozing from his hole, beading in the blonde wet curls, oozing out to smear on slightly blood stained sticky thighs. His chest shoulders were covered in red marks that would become bruises; marks inflicted by her fingers, teeth, and lips. Her point of pride was where his neck met his shoulder. The gold of his skin was rent by four puncture marks from her upper and lower canines.

She smiled and kissed him, an almost chaste gesture. "Good?" She chuckled softly and settled behind him, rolling him into her embrace. He held her close and tucked her head under his chin and wrapped his arms more fully around her. He grumbled soft, soothing noises as she continued to sniff and lick at his shoulder. 

He had a pregnancy they don't speak about, the first one, he had been so afraid that his body would fail him, he would fail them. He'd gained enough weight with how much Victoria pressed him eat, even when she wasn't home, he would find bags of jerky and granola bars labeled 'eat me' in her familar scrawl. 

His cycles had only just stabilized so it wasn't too odd that he'd missed one. He thought back, does some calculations, his mind blanks. Gets their calander, does them again.

His fear was the first thing Victoria smelled when getting inside their home, it hung sour and heavy in the air. This was bad, very bad. 

Victoria knows her mate had been abused.

It wasn’t just that he was an unbound Omega in his early twenties. He never been (allowed) to be courted or courted anyone else. He'd been disowned by his pack when he was fifteen (too young). The scars on his left wrist were what worried her the most though, to be injured like that the wounds would have been inflicted several times an hour, never giving him the chance to heal.

Some nights when he would wake crying from nightmares (begging his father to stop) she would stroke his hair and nuzzle his jaw until he would fall back to sleep. After some of his worst ones she would graze her fangs against his throat and rumble low and deep in her chest until he was calm enough to talk about it. Even now he would have bad days his eyes would be hollow, his hands shook, he'd spent hours staring at the scars on his wrists.

He hasn't had one in so long, she thought he was doing better.

"Glam?"

She found him curled up small on their bed.

He raised his head, he was pale, his eyes were bloodshot, his face was covered half dried in tears.

"Glam, whats wrong?"

She approached him carefully before sitting next to him. She stroked his back gently, trying to think of what to say or do. She really didn't want to use her status to make him to tell her what was wrong, using that on Glam only made his bad days last longer.

She took a deep careful breath, sorting through his scent. Glam smelled upset, that much was clear from his face. He didn't smell hurt, but under that he smelled different, his scent was richer, riper somehow, not like when he was in heat...but, but-

Oh, she thinks, oh shit.

"Glam, are you-"

But then Glam just crumpled, his head nodding in a short jerk as his face met his still too bony knees, what she could see of it twisting miserably. He was curled up so tight with his arms wrapped around his middle she doesn't think he could make himself any smaller than he was in that position. But his left hand was pressed low against his abdomen.

Left.

"Oh, Glam" she says, then she just holds him, and strokes his hair and back until he uncurls slightly, leans into the hold with a wet shuddering sigh. With some minimal coaxing, she had a lap full of upset blonde.

She spends an hour of soothing him, petting his spine and purring deep from her chest. It's not too long before he passes out from exhaustion.

Then she removes her boots and crawls into bed. The next morning when she wakes, she stares at her mates sleeping face. She thinks that It will be hard on them, most things in her life had been so far why would it be easy now?

Weeks pass he gets sick, very sick she's pretty sure people aren't supposed to vomit this much, especially not pregnant people who had been too thin to begin with. She presses him to eat and drink as much as he can, whenever he can, it doesn't work exactly but his weight stops dropping.

He'd been so relieved when the more dangerous part of pregnancy had passed. His belly starts to grow, his body changing. His stomach had rounded out softly, he sleeps so often now.

He rubbed his stomach harder, his fingers memorizing the solidity that had blossomed beneath his skin. The child within him fluttered, a feeling almost like bubbles or butterflies or something he couldn't name.

She catches him smiling down at his belly often, rubbing it. The best part of her day was a she would catch him humming a tune she didn't know, some sort of lullaby to their unborn.

She scents him more than ever, the soft round curves of his fertile body calling her to reinforce her claim in any way she could. He's somehow more beautiful like this, she thinks. Pregnant and soft, safe lying in their shared nest. Hers to breed, hers to protect, hers.

It all goes to shit one day in early spring, she comes home to the scent of blood.

First she thinks No, then she thinks Glam.

Earlier that morning, he'd complained about being tired, he'd said that there wasn't anything to worry about. He was always tired lately, she told him to get some more rest before taking several breaths of his scent, making sure that yes, he was tired, no Vicki it was ok for her to go to work, really.

She rips through their home to get to him

The door was locked, Glam never locked her out unless he was stuck deep where his mind went during one of his worst bad days. She could smell his blood and the door was locked. 

She rips the damn thing off its fucking hinges.

"Glam!"

He was on their bed, curled up so tight that she thinks that it can't feel good for him, having his stomach in the way like that.

"Glam!"

His eyes were dim and his face was wet with tears, she hauls him up to get a better look at what was wrong, because--

There was so much blood, it was on his hands and his pants and the bed. Jesus, fuck!

She removes the bloody sheets and blankets, tosses them to the floor, she'll deal with that later. Glam needs her now (Glam needed her earlier, she should have taken the day off.)

She carries him to the bathroom before gently placing him on the toilet. She takes off his (ruined) boxers and blood soaked pants. she runs him a bath, carefully running a soft soapy cloth to remove the wet gore from his thighs.

He can't be alone right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brief explanation:
> 
> Glam never realized that Lydia tried to court him when they were teens. Glam doesn't remember sleeping with Lydia, given that A. he was extremely drunk at the time and B. Was also very high on pheromones. 
> 
> (Any part he did remember he's supressed deeply)


End file.
